Wednesday 30 May 2012

Under Sleep.


This morning I got up at 4am to catch an early flight, and now I am a little scared of myself. Because past experience of tired-me, says I am a loaded cannon. A loose fire-arm. A whole host of gun-related analogies.

Because when I Under Sleep I do lots of stupid things, which I will discuss further in a sec.

Sometimes I don’t even realise I’ve Under Slept it can creep up so gradually. A second hot-chocolate here, an accidental episode of ABC’s ‘Model Agency’ there, and next thing you know you’re seriously wondering how come that German model doesn’t just RELAX, when what you should be wondering is how you will pretend to be a normal, awake grown-up tomorrow.

Luckily the ‘stupid things’ (mentioned above) come with their own 'thought-clues', which I believe are designed to help me recognise Under Sleep.  And over time I have come to acknowledge these thought-clues as old friends, and to greet them knowingly upon their arrival in my head (which is always unannounced and awkward - like when your boss dresses as Santa to the office Christmas party).

Typical 'thought-clues' can include:

  1. ‘Where did all of these bruises/scratches/grazes come from?’
Answer: All the things I have recently started absent-mindedly walking into.
  1. ‘Gosh, I certainly have been dropping lots of things lately.’
This has in the past included (but has certainly not been limited to) alcoholic beverages, anything glass, other peoples’ wedding rings.
  1. ‘Where did I leave my phone/keys/wallet/coffee/laptop/car?
Answer: fridge/medicine-cabinet/roof of my car (usually that last one).
  1. ‘I can see that it’s not that funny, but I am giggling anyway’.
This one can be quite pleasant for observers- particularly good for the self-esteem of those in my life prone to telling poor-quality jokes.
  1.  ‘That’s certainly not how it sounded in my head’
[Insert any number of accidentally offensive comments here.]

I like to think that these thought-clues provide an opportunity for me to rectify the problem before something really really bad happens. And by ‘really really bad’, I mean an above-average amount of accidental self-harm, or the loss of all my friends through super-annoying and clumsy wedding-ring-dropping behaviour.

And now to bed.


The brownie I bought myself after a particularly unfortunate bout of Under Sleep - when the bocconcini in my salad turned out to be... quail eggs. 



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